


To Crown A King

by TheFlailing



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn Spoilers, Fluff, M/M, Nagamas, Nagamas 2020, Post-Canon, SO MUCH FLUFF, Soft couples
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28336338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFlailing/pseuds/TheFlailing
Summary: The day of Tibarn's coronation as the king of the newly reunited bird laguz tribes is a momentous occasion, filled with the hopes for a bright new future. Before and after the coronation ceremony, two couples indulge in a soft moment of respite.
Relationships: Ike/Senerio | Soren, Reyson/Tibarn (Fire Emblem)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39
Collections: Nagamas Gifts





	To Crown A King

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tattedmariposa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tattedmariposa/gifts).



> HAPPY NAGAMAS TO MY RECIPIENT, @tattedmariposa (find them here on AO3 and on Tumblr under the same name).  
> I was delighted to receive your requests; your top two pairings are my Tellius OTPs and I totally jumped at the chance to indulge in writing a fic for both couples hahahaha XD I decided to go with the Domesticity prompt, but I think I ended up stretching the definition somewhat, so please forgive me if this wasn't exactly what you had in mind for Domesticity.  
> PS - When I first started reading and writing on AO3 several years ago, I found your brilliant fic And Yet, In Spite of, and I absolutely LOVED it (and I still do)! Such heartache!! I'm so happy to have been able to write for you and give back in a small way!
> 
> Thanks again to the Nagamas mods for organizing and facilitating another exchange! Happy Nagamas and Season's Greeting to everyone out there! <3

With nimble, slender fingers, Reyson slipped the last delicate shell button through its buttonhole, fastening closed the sheer silk shirt. He was reaching for his embroidered tunic when the door to the bathing room opened, and Tibarn stepped into the bedroom with a soft plume of steam. The late morning sun streaming through the windows glistened in the droplets of water that clung to his hair and skin, giving Reyson pause.

Already clad in his new pair of flowing white trousers, Tibarn was rubbing a towel over his wet hair. When he looked up, he smiled.

“Please, allow me,” he said, dropping the towel on the messy bedsheets and taking the tunic from Reyson’s hands. Giving the garment a light flick, he held it open. “Here.”

Slipping his arms into the sleeves, Reyson allowed Tibarn to draw the tunic up over his shoulders, pulling his hair out over the back as Tibarn moved to the front. Standing close, Reyson could feel the heat radiating from the hawk laguz as those calloused fingers gently affixed the buttons.

When he was finished, Tibarn’s eyes flicked up to meet Reyson’s gaze, and he smiled again. “There,” he said, smoothing the fine fabric over the White Prince’s shoulders.

“Thank you.”

“Have you brushed your hair yet?”

Reyson shook his head.

“May I?” Tibarn asked, reaching for the gilded hairbrush on the vanity nearby.

“Of course.”

Moving to stand behind him, Tibarn’s touch was gentle as he swept Reyson’s long hair to one side, separating out a section of it to start. Placing the brush at the roots, he slowly began to draw it through the fine, pale golden strands in one long, sweeping motion. The soft bristles scratched gently and pleasantly against Reyson's scalp at the top, before gliding through the rest of the length with a soft _swish_.

The action was rhythmic and soothing, and Reyson’s eyes fluttered closed as he enjoyed the tranquil repetition of the task. Tibarn took his time, working his way through Reyson’s hair until he was sure that every single one had been attended to. Once he was finished, Reyson opened his eyes and inspected his reflection in the mirror before him.

He smiled when Tibarn pressed a kiss to his temple as the hawk laguz reached for the finely woven silver crown on the vanity. Carefully, Tibarn lowered the familiar diadem onto his head, settling it across Reyson’s forehead _just so_.

“Satisfied?” Reyson teased.

Tibarn nodded. “Very.”

“Then it’s your turn to get dressed,” Reyson said. Tibarn had laid out his clothes on the other side of the bed, and the White Prince gathered up the finely woven linen shirt. “Come,” Reyson beckoned, holding the open the bottom hem.

Tibarn chuckled as he ducked down to allow Reyson to slip it over his head, pushing his arms through the sleeves as the shorter laguz tugged it into place. The white material was loose, and as he pulled at the shirt, Reyson’s fingers grazed against Tibarn’s firm muscles. As much as Reyson would love to spend the next hour or two basking in the warmth of Tibarn’s body, today was a very important day, and alas they had elsewhere to be. And so, reluctantly, Reyson allowed the soft shirt to cover up all of Tibarn’s lovely skin.

Next, Reyson retrieved Tibarn’s necklace, adorned with feathers and delicately carved bone beads. This, too, Tibarn had to bend forward to allow the heron laguz to slip it over his head. Then, lastly, was Tibarn’s old green coat. It had been freshly laundered, and the soft, worn material was familiar to the touch. Holding it in his hands brought back many memories, and Reyson paused as they played through his mind.

“Everything alright?” Tibarn asked softly, placing one of his large, strong hands on Reyson’s arm.

“Yes,” Reyson replied, turning to the new King-to-be. “Just… recalling. You wore this the first time you were coronated.”

Tibarn smiled softly. “Yes. It was brand new then.”

“I remember.”

“Much has come to pass since I became Kind Phoenicis.”

Reyson swallowed. “Yes, it has.”

“We are about to usher in a new era of unity and peace; I can think of nothing better to wear on such an occasion.”

Instead of replying, Reyson shook out the coat, holding it open for Tibarn. He helped the taller laguz into it, and when the sleeves had been rolled up to the elbow, Tibarn turned to face him.

“Thank you,” he said softly, bowing his head to press his nose against Reyson’s cheek, his arms coming round to encircle him in a lovingly gentle embrace.

“My pleasure,” Reyson replied, his eyes falling closed as he breathed in Tibarn’s deep, earthy scent. Although they had been living in the Serenes Forest for some time now, the salt of the sea seemed to cling stubbornly to Tibarn’s skin and hair; no matter how many times he bathed, his scent was tinted with that of the ocean, but Reyson couldn’t say that he minded; it stirred memories of the old palace in Phoenicis.

Reyson allowed his heron’s powers to rise, and the bond between them resonated with warmth as Tibarn’s thoughts began to flow through him, like water flowing through a hand dipped into a river. Love and adoration poured into his soul, filling him with more light than the sun, and Reyson couldn’t help but press a soft kiss to the corner of Tibarn’s mouth.

Turning his head, Tibarn parted his lips, indulging in the small pleasure.

They kissed for a few minutes, content to simply bask in the moment, but eventually, Reyson pulled back.

“We should finish getting ready. The ceremony will be starting soon.”

Tibarn hummed. “Time to get this over with.”

-8-

Lanterns had been strung up between the trees, casting a soft amber glow over the coronation celebration. Night had fallen, and after feasting upon the delicious fare that had been prepared from only the finest and freshest ingredients, the tables had been pushed to the edges of the clearing to make room for dancing.

The moon hung high in the night sky, and it though it was growing late, the merriment showed no signs of slowing. Standing on the sidelines, Soren swept a stray wisp of hair out of eyes, tucking it behind his ear. He watched as Leanne and Naesala waltzed past on the dance floor, all smiles and crinkled eyes as their feathers and silk clothing swept gracefully through the air. With his armed crossed, Soren leaned against a tree, taking in the sight before him. Many other familiar faces swirled amongst the crowd, all moving in time and step to the music that flowed from the musicians’ stage.

As he stood there, Soren felt a presence behind him, and turned to find Ike at his shoulder.

“Soren,” Ike said softly, his large, warm hand coming to rest in the small of his back.

“Ike.” The sage glanced around, and found that they were alone. “Managed to lose the gaggle of nobles?”

The tall, broad man rolled his eyes. “Yes, finally.”

“Hmm.” Soren turned back to the dancing, and the elegant swirl of limbs and fabric. He had never been one for the activity himself, but he found that it was always such a fascinating thing to watch.

“Should we turn in?” asked Ike.

Without turning away, Soren nodded. He had seen the tiredness in Ike’s face, and he knew that the man’s ability to socialize was reaching its limits.

“Alright. Let’s thank our hosts, and we can be going.”

It wasn’t hard to find Tibarn and Reyson. The two laguz were in conversation with a couple – Crimean, going by the cut and style of their clothing – and had to wait a few minutes for them to finish. The coronation ceremony had been shorter than Soren expected, but yet somehow managed to be fittingly grand for such a historic occasion. The crown that had been placed upon Tibarn’s head was woven of finely wrought silver and gold, studded with diamonds, peridots, rubies, and obsidian crystals. It was a far cry from the red headband that Tibarn usually liked to wear. The two looked as they always had, even after two continental wars.

Finally, the Crimean couple broke away, and the laguz royalty turned to them.

“Tibarn, Reyson,” Ike said in greeting.

“Ike! Soren!” Tibarn exclaimed, pulling the man into a brief but fierce hug. “Are you leaving already? I haven’t yet had the chance to test my claws against your blade this night!”

Ike huffed a laugh. “Unfortunately so. It’s getting late. Sorry that we couldn’t have that spar you wanted.”

“Very well,” Tibarn said with a shrug. “But next time!”

“Thank you for coming all this way,” Reyson said.

“Yes!” agreed Tibarn. “It was good to catch up with you over dinner. Reyson and I are glad you were able to attend. We were afraid you might not come; your distaste for nobility is well known.”

“Of course,” Ike said, nodding. “Enduring the presence of the nobility is a small price to pay for the chance to see old friends again. It was good to catch up with you both too. You seem to have your work cut out for you; I wish you all the best in the coming trials.”

Tibarn laughed heartily. “Yes, peacekeeping between the tribes of our newly forged nation will certainly be quite the endeavor.”

“I’m sure between the both of you, everything will be just fine,” Ike replied.

“Thank you.”

“Must you depart first thing in the morning?” Reyson asked.

“I’m afraid so,” Ike replied.

“Very well. Next time you visit, you must stay for longer! This past week has been entirely too short.”

“We wish you safe travels,” Tibarn said, placing a hand on Ike’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Tibarn. And congratulations, again.”

As Reyson bid Ike farewell, Tibarn turned to Soren. “Thank you for coming, Tactician. I’m glad you could bear witness today as well.”

Soren, without anything to say, merely nodded.

“Yes,” said Reyson, turning to the sage. “Thank you for your attendance, Soren. I hope you have found your stay enjoyable.”

“I have.”

“That’s good to hear. I came across a few tomes in our archives that I thought might draw your interest; I took the liberty of having them copied for you,” Reyson continued.

Soren raised one eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yes. I had them delivered to your quarters this afternoon; please let me know what you think when you get the chance to study them.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

Reyson nodded. “Don’t mention it.”

“We must be going now,” Soren said. “Congratulations again, Your Majesty.”

Tibarn nodded in acknowledgement.

“Farewell, King Tibarn, Prince Reyson,” Soren said.

The two mercenaries turned to leave. Ike strode purposefully towards the exit, and Soren made to follow, when a slender hand clasped his wrist.

Soren turned to find the White Prince behind him, a look of concern upon the delicate features of his face.

Pale green eyes held Soren’s scarlet gaze for a minute, the silence hanging between them. Reyson searched Soren’s face, and whether he found what he was looking for, Soren did not know. Eventually, the prince dropped his hand, letting go of Soren’s wrist. “Be careful; take care of each other,” he said simply as he drew back.

Soren blinked once, then turned on his heel, his feet working briskly over the mossy ground as he caught up with Ike at the clearing’s edge. Ike curled an arm around Soren’s waist, drawing him near as they departed. The walk back to their quarters was quiet, and with every step, the sounds of laughter and music faded into the distance, until only the soft sounds of the forest surrounded them.

Once back in their room, Ike quickly shucked his tunic and trousers as Soren began to undo the braids in his hair. When he was clad only in his undershirt and underpants, Ike reached out with his hands, beginning to unfasten the sash belt that Soren had affixed over his sage’s robes.

Undressed an in their undergarments, Ike led Soren to bed, pulling back the sheets as they slipped onto the mattress. Settling down, Ike pulled Soren close, spooning him until his slender back was pressed up against the warmth of Ike’s broad, muscled chest.

“Did you get to talk to everyone you wanted to?” Soren asked.

“Yes, I did.”

“Ranulf seemed rather excited to see you again.”

Ike chuckled wearily. “Yes. He was very eager to air his complaints about Skrimir’s latest follies. Not that he minds having to pick up the young King Gallia’s messes, but sometimes I think he might be lonely.”

Soren hummed in agreement.

“It was good to see everyone, one last time.”

Soren was quiet.

Dropping a soft kiss to the sage’s shoulder, Ike spoke. “What did Reyson want?” he asked.

Soren shrugged. “Nothing important. Just giving us his well wishes.”

“Hm,” Ike said, and Soren could tell that he was already drifting off to sleep.

There was little use in telling Ike that Reyson had likely discovered their plans to depart for unknown lands, never to return. Ike had once mentioned that herons possessed the power to read the thoughts of others, and Soren suspected that this was how he had come across the realization. But it changed little; they still planned to leave first thing in the morning. The rest of the mercenaries were staying back another few days, and likely would not discover their departure until they arrived back at Greil Mercenaries Headquarters, only to find it empty.

Ike had draped his arm across Soren’s body, his hand snaking up until his hand was resting over Soren’s heart. Ike’s breathing began to even out, and Soren closed his eyes. He was wrapped in the arms of the only man he ever loved, and would be for the rest of his life. What more was there to ask for? As the mists of sleep began to descend upon him, Soren wondered what marvels awaited them. Whatever it was, they would face it together, Ike and he, and that was enough.


End file.
